


Bond of Blood

by DancerinDarkness



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Can't stop coming up with AU's, F/M, Human Experimentation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Romance, Smut, Vague Time Period, Vampire Dante, Vampire Hunter Dante, Vampire Vergil, dark themes, just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancerinDarkness/pseuds/DancerinDarkness
Summary: When a young woman is rescued by a mysterious savior, she becomes entangled in a web of danger, temptations, and desire. Meanwhile, a vampire who hunts his own kind begins to unravel a treacherous scheme, one that just might lead him to his long estranged brother...
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 50





	1. Savior in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~ I've come up with yet another AU involving these two, and I thought that a vampire AU would be appropriate given the season, and it was an idea I had that I wanted to get out. I also wanted to write something a bit darker as well. I'm sure you're probably starting to get tired of all of these AU's, but if you do read it, I hope you enjoy.

Alisha had lost count of how much time had passed since she arrived at this prison. For endless days it seemed, she had been trapped in this small room, completely dark save for a dull light on the ceiling that occassionally flickered. Her body shivered beneath the thin cotton sheet, and the air smelt unpleasantly sterile. 

The last thing she remembered before arriving here was the elderly vicar of the church requesting to meet with her after services. So she met him in his office, and he offered her some freshly brewed tea, which she accepted. She did not notice anything out of the ordinary as he spoke to her about how everyone had a place in the world, until she started to feel very drowsy... 

When she regained consciousness, she found herself laying on a sparse bed, surrounding by people in white uniforms. She had been taken out of her dress and was now changed into a thin white nightgown. She felt very dizzy, and even the dimness of the light above her made her head throb. 

"Ah, you're awake," one of the men said. "We're going to take some blood now, so hold still."

Before she could comprehend what he had just told her, she saw a woman aproach her with a hypodermic needle in her hand. Alisha jumped to her feet, trying to make an escape, but she was roughly grabbed by two men who held her down on the bed. She screamed as loud as she could, wriggling within their grasp, but it only made them hold her tighter in a bruising grip as her sleeve was rolled up to her shoulder. Then she felt the needle jab into her vein, tears streaming down her cheeks as the woman took her blood. Then, without a word, they left, leaving her arm stinging as she lay on the bed.

Days passed, and every few hours someone would arrive to either take her blood, deliver her meals, or bathe her with a washcloth. Several times she would try to make her escape, attempting to run past them or hit them when the caught her. Alas, all of her escape attempts ended in vain. Eventually, she was was regularly injected with a sedative, making her body feel so weak that it took almost all of her energy just to stay awake. She tried to resist having broth spoon fed to her, but she eventually relented when she was threatened with being fed through a tube instead. 

It was not long until she began praying for death. She didn't even try praying for an escape; why even bother? What sort of hope was there for escaping? She was surrounded by people who only saw her as a blood supply for whatever nefarious purposes they had. The only hope for escape from this torturous hell was death, and each time she fell asleep, she hoped that she would never wake up again...

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, she saw the door begin to open. It was probably a scientist wanting to take some more blood. Her arm began to throb, the ever growing bruise at her vein aching horribly at the thought of a needle being stuck into it again. 

"Are you all right?" the voice asked. To her surprise, it was a voice she didn't recognize. After a while, she found herself becoming accustomed to the various individual voices of the people who traveled in and out of her room. This one was completely new, a man's voice if she wasn't mistaken. "Can you stand up?" 

She looked upwards and saw a tall figure standing a few feet away from her. It was difficult to distinguish any particular features in the dim lighting, but she could vaguely see a man looking right at her, and not wearing the white coat the others wore. 

Was this some strange answer to her prayers?

"N-No," she finally replied. She feared that if she even attempted get out of bed, she would collapse onto the cold tile below her. 

At her reply, the man approached her, and in three long strides he reached her bedside. A chill ran down her spine when she saw him reach for the sword at his side, the blade singing as it was unsheathed. But to her surprise, he instead used the blade to cut into the space beside him. 

"Don't let him near her!" she heard a voice shout in the distance. She gasped in terror, knowing that they would resch her soon. But then she felt herself being lifted by sturdy arms, carefully lifting her from the bed.

"W-What are you doing?" she asked as the stranger brought her close to his chest. He gave her no reply as he quickly stepped through the cut he haf just made.

In less than a second, her torturous hell was behind her.

* * *

It was late into the afternoon, and Dante had yet to receive a single call today. He sat idly at his desk, flipping though a magazine of scantily clad women as the clock ticked by. Ever since he opened up his vampire hunting business, working hours varied greatly day by day. Some days, like today, he wouldn't receive a single call or walk in. Other times, he would be busy well into the night, with plently of work leftover.

He didn't mind, though; sure, sometimes things got a little boring, but there were far worse fates than a few slow work days. And when things were busy, at least he was doing something worthwhile. It kinda sucked that he was just barely making ends meet, though. Sure, he didn't exactly need a lot given his vampiric heritage; he just needed a pint or two of blood a night and he was good till the next night. But even though he had no use food, eating meals helped keep in touch with his human side. Besides, pizza tasted good. And alcohol helped take some of the edge off. Still, even he had to admit things got a little lonely once in a while...

As though on cue, the phone on his desk began ringing. He placed the magazine aside before picking up the phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Dante," the voice on the other side said. "Are you busy right now?"

"I might be able to make some time."

"Good. Because there's something important I need to show you."

Looks like he was back in business.


	2. Taste of Bliss

Before she knew it, Alisha was somewhere... Different. Gone was the sharp sterile scent, replaced by a smell she could only describe as "old", as though her new surroundings were barely touched for ages. It was still too dark for her to see much, but she could feel her strange rescuer take her up a long flight of stairs before stopping at a door and entering the room. 

From the light of the moon shining through the large window, she could see a large, four poster bed, and an armoire close by that was made of the same dark wood as the bed frame. When he carefully set her on the mattress, she could still only vaguely see what her savior looked like, his figure little more than a silhouette. 

"W-Who are you?" she asked. "Why did you save me?" He gave her no answers to her questions asahe began to step away from the bed.

"You should rest now," he said. "It'll help you recover your strength sooner." Before she could say anything else, he stepped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Alisha felt a bit frustrated with how she couldn't receive an answer to anything she asked, but he was correct when he said she should rest; her body still ached horribly from being forced to lay in bed for so long, but she also knew that she was in no condition to move around, especially since she still had the sedatives in her system. And then of course, her left arm where her blood was constantly taken was in so much pain that she could barely move it. So she settled under the thick covers and relaxed herself, the first time she could do so in quite a while, and the covers felt much more warm and comfortable than the ones she had previously slept on. There was also fluffy pillow to rest her head against. It did not take her very long to have her first proper night of rest in a long time...

When she awakened the next morning, she was still quite weak and her body still rather achey, but she noticed something strange: the horrible pain in her arm was completely gone. When she pulled up her sleeve, she couldn't believe what she saw: the dark purple mark at her skin had disappeared. When she carefully touched it with her finger, there was not a hint of the tender stinging that was there the previous night. 

She took a moment to examine her surroundings, wondering if perhaps she was dreaming. The windows were now covered with dark, heavy curtains, which prevented much of the sunlight from entering the room, but still light enough to clearly see everything now. She could now see that the covers she was under were a deep burgandy color, and in the far corner of the room was a fireplace. There was also a dresser to match the armoire nearby. 

When she looked at the bedside table on her left, she noticed that resting next to the lamp was a small white plate with two slices of bread and a whole red apple atop of it. 

Being quite hungry, Alisha adjusted herself so that she was sitting on the side of the bed with her legs dangling off the edge before taking a bite of the bread. Though she was very grateful to this stranger, he still told her nothing about himself to her. She didn't even know his name... So why did she recall a strange sense of familiarity when he held her in his arms? 

After she finished eating, she stepped out of bed and walked to the armoire, taking care not to tumble as her body was still quite weak from lack of use. Inside were several dresses that looked as though they hadn't been touched in many years. It seemed everything here was old and barely used...

After changing out of her worn nightgown, she slipped on a dark olive green dress before pulling on a pair of black stockings from the dresser and putting some black boots. Nearby, there was a mirror that was taller than she was, which allowed her to see her entire body.

She could not help but stop and stare in shock at what she looked like: her face was sickly pale, and dark circles had formed right under her eyes. Her skin had also become dry and coarse to the touch. She knew that she was not in a healthy enviornment, but she didn't realize the effect it had on her body.

Had she really been trapped for so long?

After brushing her hair, she left the bedroom and entered a long hallway. It was dark here as well, as every one of the windows she saw were covered by curtains, and a slight chill pricked her skin. It made this new environment all the more foreboding...

"You're able to walk now I see," a familiar voice said. She gasped as she turned around towards the source of the voice. 

At last she was able to clearly see the man who rescued her; he was tall, towering over her, his pure white hair neatly slicked back, allowing her to completely see his face. His eyes were a cold, pale blue, and he wore a stoic countenance. He was finely dressed to match his handsome appearance, with a elegant blue coat whose tails nearly touched the ground. Handsome... And yet, she felt as though there was an air of danger just below the surface.

"Y-Yes," she finally replied. "Thank you. I didn't have a chance to do so earlier." For a moment, the stranger said nothing.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Come with me." Without another word, he made his way down the hall. Quickly, she followed him, where he lead her down a grand staircase and into a parlor on the ground floor. He motioned for her to sit in an armchair in front of the fireplace, which she complied to as he sat in the one across from her. After another moment of uncomfortable silence, she spoke up.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Vergil."

"Vergil...I'm Alisha. I... How long was I trapped there?"

"About a month." For a whole month she was imprisoned, her body nothing more than tool by people who only gave her the bare minium to survive... But at least she was safe for now.

"I suppose I can never home, or else they'll capture me again... And I'm afraid I have nothing to give you in return for your taking me in..." 

"We can discuss that after you recover; For now, you're still weak, and in no condition to do anything strenuous."

She was taken aback by his sudden generosity; in fact, it made her suspicous of him, wondering if he had any ulterior motives. But nonetheless, this was by far her safest option, and she knew she couldn't afford to refuse him.

"Very well. Thank you."

* * *

He could still recall the first night he visited her. 

It began when he first stepped onto the island of Fortuna, a small town whose community was centered around their church, for the devoted much of their resources into exterminating vampires. Many powerful vampire hunters called this island their home, with some traveling far away to use their skills to slay vampires outside the island, while others chose to stay close to home.

Regardless, when Vergil discovered the existence of this island, he was quickly intrigued; many vampire hunters attempted to kill him, and each one of them were slaughtered by his hand, draining their blood until they died, which in turn made him claim their power and strength as his own. So he found himself interested in the place where so many of his would-be murderers came from. While he had no interest in being careless and exposing himself, he was nonetheless curious as to what this little town held. After all, understanding one's enemy was the best way to be one step ahead of them.

As he wandered the streets, he was suddenly struck with a strong scent, sweet, like freshly bloomed flowers, and more intoxicating than wine. 

It smelled wonderful. 

He quickly found the source of the mysterious scent: a young woman shopping in the marketplace for fruits. Long, chestnut hair, sparkling hazel eyes, a soft, gentle voice... It appeared she was as lovely as her scent.

When she finished shopping, he followed her back home, making sure to not look conspicuous. He watched he he entered her small house, completely unaware that she was being followed. He made certain not to forget this location.

Later that night, when everyone was fast asleep, he returned to her home, slipping through the tiniest crack of her bedroom window by turning to mist. Perhaps it shouldn't be surprising that there was evidence of various rituals that were used to disable vampiric powers. Of course, while they may have been effective against the common vampire, it had no effect on someone as powerful as him.

He took a moment to gaze at her peaceful, sleeping form; her chest slowly rose and fell as she breathed, and her long hair was spread across the pillow. He gently stroked her cheek, admiring how soft it felt against his finger... He could not wait any longer.

He brushed her hair away from her neck before sinking his sharp fangs into her delicate flesh. She softly wimpered in her sleep, but she soon calmed down as he began drinking. 

Immediately, his tongue was greeted with the most exquisite taste he had ever experienced. The taste of human blood never failed to give him immense satisfaction, but this time he felt as though every nerve in his body was flooded with elation the moment he tasted her. He was well aware from experience that virgin's blood tasted sweeter, but it was much more than that; richer than the most decadent fruits, sweeter and more intoxicating than the finest wines... Had he not known any better, he might have thought he was tasting the ambrosia of a god. 

He could not recall a time where he fed from the same human more than once. But every other night he would return to her, gorging himself on her blood. Night after night he drank from her, not once tiring of her sweet flavor. And it wasn't just her blood than beckoned him to return; he held her in his arms as he drank her blood, laying her lithe body across his lap. The way she relaxed in his hold, softly moaning as a lover would, made each visit all the more satisfying to him. When he had his fill, he would even lay in bed by her side, gently stroking her silken hair as she slumbered. It was... Comforting.

One night, he was surprised to find her bed empty. It was strange at first, but perhaps she had traveled outside the island. But as the weeks passed with no sign of her return, he began to grow suspicous. 

He tried to brush it off, to forget about her; why should he care about a weak, fragile human? While he greatly enjoyed the taste of her blood, there was surely more like hers. Though he did admit he had grown fond of how she seemed to perfectly fit in his arms, those soft, sweet moans, how relaxed she looked when he lay by her side after he drank his fill... 

Against his better judgment, he began to track her scent, for he had become more than accustomed to it. He was eventually able to find a trace of it on a Holy Knight, a member of the church's elite militaty. Carefully, he followed the knight to his headquarters, eventually reaching what appeared to be a laboratory, with a smell that nearly gave him a headache. While he was curious as to what they could be studying, it would have to wait, for she could be in grave danger by now. 

Soon her scent grew stronger, and he could now see that her blood was being stored in several glass vials. What use could these humans possibly have for her blood?

Eventually, her scent led him to a metal door with two Holy Knights standing guard. It looked like no one else was there for the time being. So he stepped out of the shadows with Yamato drawn, prepared to attack.

"Who are you?!" One of the knights shouted as he drew his sword. Vergil responded by wordlessly plunging his blade into the man's stomach, killing him instantly and making blood pour from his mouth as he fell to the ground. Before the other knight had a chance to react, Vergil cut the pathetic human's throat and watched as he writhed on the floor before becoming still. 

When he finally opened the door, she was in a small room laying on a tiny bed. When he took a closer look, he quickly noticed the vacant expression in her eyes, as though the life had been drained from her soul. It was clear her body was malnourished, and it looked as though she must have been freezing in the coldness of this underground lab. And then his eyes were quickly drawn to the unsightly purple mark at her arm, where her blood was drawn from her.

Without even realizing it, anger began to boil within his veins. These humans, these pathetic humans kept her prisoner here, using her body as one would use an animal for experiments. Her well-being was clearly not a priority, and they had all but completely stolen her will to live. 

He could not leave her here.

He took her to his home, an enormous manor hidden away, located hudreds of miles from Fortuna, where she would be out of reach from them. He did not know how one would care for a sickly human, but whatever was pulling at his conscience, it told him he had to do whatever was necessary to keep her safe and restore her health. He held little love for humans, for their weakness was no match for the strength of a vampire. And yet, he somehow grew a fondness for this human, and disliked seeing her harmed in such a way. A small part of him even wondered if she would grow a fondness for him in return.

Perhaps, in time, he would understand why. 


	3. Familiarity

"I refuse to be killed by a worthless half breed!"

That was the final words of Dante's target before the vampire hunter sunk his fangs into his prey's neck, draining his blood until the last traces of life were gone. 

"You're not the first one to say that," Dante said as he stood to his feet. Another night, another mission; this time it had to do with a vampire that had killed a man who caught him drinking the blood of his children. The villagers were reluctant, of course, to have a half vampire aid them; they always were. But it was clear they had no other choice when the other vampire hunters they hired turned up empty handed, and the vampire ended up killing another person.

Dante grunted as he threw the vampire's corpse over his shoulder, prepared to burn it once he left the small house and got out into the field. Since a young age, he never felt as though he belonged anywhere, something he felt soon after his parents died; his father was a powerful vampire who chose to marry a woman whom he gave the gift of immortality to by making her his thrall. This did not go over well when other vampires got word of this, to say the least; while it was far from unheard for vampires to turn humans into their thralls, it was nothing short of traitorous to them that such a powerful vampire treat his thrall as his equal, as opposed to a slave that was expected to obey his every command, and to sully his bloodline with a human blood.

It was why, when Dante and his twin brother were eight years old, a horde of vampires ambushed their home, in the hopes of killing the traitorous vampire, his mate, and the half breed spawn. While his parents were killed in the massacre, he managed to escape, though he would not find out his brother had somehow done the same until they reuinted many years later. Unfortunately, their family reunion was... Less than pleasant.

In the meantime, humans were hardly any kinder to him; when people found out about his vampiric heritage, they were quick to distrust him, even becoming violent. Of course, he never killed any of these humans who tried to attack him, even if they were hunters; he could not in good conscience kill an innocent human, not when all he wanted was to live a "normal" life. Hell, he couldn't even bring himself to drink from humans, which was why he often drank cattle's blood. It may have tasted bland, but he couldn't bring himself to do the alternative; even though he could easily drink from a human without harming them, it still made him feel guilty that he was taking the life force of a person in order to sustain his own. Still, he would sometimes make an exception for asshole humans that he caught trying to harm innocents. He also never turned down the chance to drink from a vampire he was assigned to kill. Just one of the perks of the job, he supposed.

After watching the vampire's body turn to ash in the flames, Dante made his way back into the village, presenting the gold ring of the victim to his widow as proof. The bastard must have taken it as some sort of trophy. Once that happened, he was showered in thanks, the villagers giving them every bit of gratitude they were capable of, as though they had forgotten their initial distrust. They even offered double of Dante's asking price, but he turned it down, and even said that he refused to accept any payment from the small, less than wealthy community. It's not as though he as a vampire needed much money anyways.

He returned to the office that evening, pouring himself some whisky when his handler, Morrison, stepped through the door. A few years ago, Dante hired him so that he would hopefully recieve more assignments. Like most people, Morrison was hesistant to work for a half vampire at first, but soon their partnership turned out to work quite well. 

"Hey," Dante said. "Want a drink?"

"Not now," Morrison replied. "There's a new assignment I have for you." Dante strided over to his desk, glass in hand as he took his seat, before Morrison continued. "A member of the Order of the Sword in Fortuna contacted the office while you were gone."

"Wait, the Order of the Sword? As in, that church full of vampire hunters? Why would they need me?"

"They told me that a vampire kidnapped the daughter of one of their deceased members, whom they suspect is a vampire, and that they were hoping you could assist them. If you can do that, they say there's a hefty reward waiting for you."

"A missing person, huh? Not exactly my expertise, but I guess I can do that. What do we know?"

"The Order told me they sent information about her in the mail; it should arrive in a few days."

"Well, I guess there's nothing we can do till then. In the meantime-" the vampire hunter took a swig of his drink before continuing. "What else do you have for me?" 

* * *

For the past week, Alisha rarely left her bedroom because of how weak she still felt. The other day, she could barely force herself to get out of bed because of an intense migraine she had, which she theorized was due to her body struggling to cope with the sudden withdrawl of sedatives. Even the small amount of sunlight that peeked through the curtains intensified the throbbing in her head. Today, however, she was feeling significantly better, and she thought it best she get some movement into her routine. She also wanted to breathe some fresh air again, after being locked in an unpleasant basement for far too long. 

The air was rather cool today, but the sun was shining brightly, which made the weather quite pleasant. She stepped through the empty garden, having a newfound appreciation for sunlight and fresh air. Eventually, she took a seat at the edge of a large fountain that had no water running.

Vergil... What a strange man he was. She did not even know his name when he found her, and now she was under his care. The manor was enormous, and yet there was not a single servant in sight. Surely a person that lived in such a luxurious home would have at least a few people as hired help... Perhaps she could make an agreement with him in this regard in exchange for staying here...

Still, even though she rarely saw him, she was extremely grateful for his rescue of her; three times daily, he would deliver a plate of food to her, though he did have a rather... unusal taste. Just the previous night, he served her a serving of overcooked pork, with carrot slices that were still cold. And breakfast was always two slices of bread with a fruit of some kind. But she dared not be ungrateful to him, and thanked him for his kindness each time she saw him.

Suddenly, she felt very strange when thinking of him; never in her life had she seen this man, for she knew she could never forget a face such as his. Then why was it that she felt as though they had met before? Why was it that his presence felt familiar? Perhaps it was her becoming too quickly attached because of circumstance. Whatever the case may be, she supposed it mattered little. 

Suddenly, she felt a cold drop of water land on the back of her hand, followed by several more that touched her skin. Quickly she stood up and made her way back inside; the last thing she needed was to become sick. And perhaps she could start thinking of a way to repay him.


	4. Surrender to the Forbidden

* * *

As expected, Dante received an envelope in the mail containing the information about the missing Fortuna girl. They even sent a photograph of her, a young woman with long hair. Then he began to read the page of information on her:

Name: Alisha

Age: 18

Height: 5 ft. 5in.

Hair color: Brown

Eye color: Hazel

There was also a phone number written on the paper, which he was encouraged to call as soon as he received the info. After a few rings, the vicar of the Order, Sanctus, picked up.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to help us,” he said. “She’s the daughter of one of our own who died serving us, and we feel obligated to make sure she’s safe now that her father’s gone.”

“Uh huh…” Dante replied as he tapped his fingers against the surface of his desk. The vampire hunter had enough experience in the business to know that if someone’s trying too hard to sound good and caring, then there’s a good chance they were hiding something, and the tone of this guy's voice practically oozed "honey trap". Still, a job was a job, and if this girl was actually kidnapped by a vampire, he couldn’t just leave her in danger just because the person trying to find her sounded suspicious. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Yes. We unfortunately couldn’t get a good look at the kidnapper, but one of the knights said he saw a tall figure picking her up before they both disappeared.”

Well, it definitely couldn’t have been a human who just vanished out of thin air. Still, teleportation wasn’t exactly something most vampires were capable of either. Any vampire could turn to mist and escape with enough practice, but picking up another person and just disappearing? To bend time and space at will? Whoever this was, it wasn’t one of the typical vampires he was used to hunting. In fact, there was only one vampire he had ever encountered that was not only capable of pulling off such a feat, but had mastered it…

“Are you sure that no one was able to see what he looked like?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Right… well, if I find anything, I’ll call you back.” He then hung up the phone, making it give a hearty _click_. If his brother had anything to do with this, Dante knew he was in for a real headache; Vergil was damn near impossible to track down, and if he took it upon himself to kidnap someone, that could only mean he had some nefarious plan in mind.

Dante sighed as he flipped through some paperwork; he already had more than enough assignments on his plate without his twin causing more trouble for him. But even though he had no idea how long it would take him, he would be sure to stop his brother from causing any more harm.

* * *

In the evening, Alisha was in the kitchen preparing dinner, removing the tins of spices she needed from the cabinet. As soon as she was able to, she was insistent that she cook the meals, as she was sure that even Vergil wasn’t fond of overcooked meat and raw vegetables every night. And she thought it could be a way for her to start repaying him for his rescue and care of her.

After she went to the pantry to fetch some raw beef and some broccoli, she set them on the counter and pulled out a knife from the drawer. She hummed as she began to cut into the broccoli, the sharp blade easily able to slice through each of the florets one by one.

Just as she was about to make one final cut, she accidently cut the tip of her index finger, causing her to yelp in pain. Quickly, she dropped the knife and looked at her hand; she was already bleeding quite a bit, and there was drop of blood on the counter where she sliced her finger, but it was nonetheless a small injury. So she soon went to turn on the sink, wincing when the cold water stung her open wound.

“I would hate to see such a waste.”

Alisha gasped when she heard Vergil’s voice suddenly behind her.

“Vergil, you scared-“

Suddenly, her heart began to pound rapidly in chest when her eyes met him, her legs trembling so much she thought she would fall if she took a single step. Slowly, he approached her, eyes unwaveringly upon her, as though he were a beast about to devour his prey, each step a threatening echo. Her instincts told her to run, to make some attempt to escape, no matter how futile. But his gaze held her in place, as though stealing her ability to move.

The moment he was close enough, he quickly turned off the water before taking her wounded hand in his, his grip cold and firm. He held her hand so that her fingers were positioned upwards, allowing a drop of blood to trickle down her finger. Her lips trembled, her voice begging her to scream, but the only sound that escaped was a pathetic whimper.

Then a chill ran down her spine when she felt his tongue lap up her spilt blood against her skin before he began sucking at the tiny cut. Her eyes widened in terror, and she thought she might cry if she wasn’t frozen in fear. This man, the one who saved her life… he was a vampire. And she had become his prey.

Quickly, desperately, she searched her mind, trying to remember what her father had told her should she ever encounter a vampire. Then she remembered: all she needed to do was say a prayer, and the vampire would be temporarily stunned, giving her a small opportunity to escape. Yes, any prayer would do. She searched her memory, trying to recall even the simplest prayer. But fear had taken complete hold of her, leaving her completely powerless.

As much as it horrified her, she could not tear her eyes away from the sight of Vergil eagerly drinking her blood. His mouth felt warm around her finger, and she could feel his teeth lightly scraping against her skin. For years, her father worked hard to keep her safe, to make sure she knew how to stay out of danger… and now she was caught by the very being her father tried so hard to protect her from.

At last he was finished, and he released her hand from his grasp. Quickly, she pulled it back, and she managed to catch a glimpse of the satisfied look on his face. Then, to her surprise, she saw that her finger was completely healed, as though it had never been harmed in the first place. There wasn’t even a hint of pain left behind.

“Now then,” he said. “I told you that we could discuss an arrangement for you once you recovered. And I believe I have a suitable agreement in mind.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before he continued. “You can stay in my home for as long as you wish, and do as you please..." He leaned his head forward, making her shudder as his cold lips ever so slightly touched her ear. "All I ask in return is that you let me drink from you whenever desire." 

As soon as he said those words, his smooth lips traveled down her neck until he reached the perfect spot right above her vein. Then a chill ran down her spine when she felt the very tips of his fangs touch her skin. 

Though it filled her with dread, she knew she may never be able to return home, nor did she know of a safe place to stay elsewhere. The idea of becoming a food source to a vampire made her skin crawl, but she was forced to admit that it was still a better fate than being locked in a cold room, alone and abused.

And to her dismay, she did not find the process of his blood drinking unpleasant. Much to her horror, she had found the sensation of his fangs delicately touching her skin to be... enticing. So dangerous were his fangs, like daggers that could easily tear into her flesh. And yet, having his waiting mouth at her neck filled her with anticipation, wanting to feel the warmth of his mouth engulf her soft skin the same way he did her finger...

What choice did she have but to surrender?

"I'll accept your arrangement," she said, before she could change her mind.

Scarcely after she uttered those words did she feel a sharp, stinging pain in her neck, and she released a choked gasp as his smooth fangs dug deeper into her skin. Right after he punctured the flesh, he began sucking, the sound of the depraved act filling her ears. When she looked down, all she could see was the snowy crown of his head, his face completely buried in her neck.

Before she realized what was happening, she started to feel pleasure. 

His arms coiled around her, firmly holding her so that her chest was pressed against his, and so tightly that she thought she would suffocate if she tried to escape. And yet, it only fueled the pleasure she felt as he drank her blood. The intesne pain soon melted into a faint stinging sensation, and with each mouthful of blood he took did she feel an intense fire rush through her nerves. Shame began to wash over her, horrified that her body was enjoying such a sinful act, that she had allowed him to do this to her. But she nonetheless could not stop the moans she released as she became more and more sensitive to his every touch, nor resist the temptation the hold her hand against her head, and weave her fingers through his soft hair. 

He eventually had his fill and pulled away from her neck, releasing her from his grasp and making her give a small whine a disappointment. She was feeling a bit dizzy, both from the loss of blood and the rush of emotions she felt when he drank from her. Sowly, she looked up at him, and she shivered when she saw that his pale blue eyes had turned a deep red, with smears of blood staining his pale lips. _Her_ blood.

"It seems we both benefit from this arrangement," he said before licking away the rest of the blood from his lips. Alisha bit her lip, trying not to think of hiw the sight made her legs quiver. "I look forward to continuing." 

Though she dare not admit it, she thought the same.


	5. Fondness

Every other day without fail, he fed from her. 

It was always at nighttime, before she was prepared to go to bed, something she was thankful for as each time he drank from her, she always felt a bit weak. While she had been frightened the first few times, she eventually became used to his routine; after all, why would he kill the food source he enjoyed so much? And as much as she tried to tell herself that she didn't enjoy the process, she still found herself anticipating his feedings, all too eager to embrace his sinful touches.

Eventually, though, she began to find more and more things she somehow recognized about him: How his embrace was firm, yet careful, knowing that his strength could hurt her. The sound of his groans that reached her ears, letting her know how much he enjoyed her blood. Even the way he pushed her hair away from her neck made her feel as though she had been touched there by him many times before. And still, she could not understand why.

One day, she approached him as he was reading in the library, curtains draped along each window. For a while, she tried to avoid him since their “arrangement” began, feeling too ashamed to even look at him outside of their nightly meetings. But now, her curiosity and confusion had gotten the better of her; besides, didn't she deserve to know more about why she was even here in the first place?

“Vergil,” she asked. “If I were to ask you something… would you answer me honestly?” He looked up at her from his book before he replied.

“What is it you wish to know?"

"Why did you rescue me that night? Did you even know who I was?" He turned away from her, as though trying to hide something from her.

"Yes," he finally replied. "I knew who you were months before you were captured."

"How? I never met you before then. Did you..." She gave a hard swallow, the question she was about to ask making her shiver to the bone. "Did you drink from me before you saved me?" With bated breath she awaited his response, not knowing which one would be the most comforting to her.

"I did."

She let out a tiny gasp; she supposed that answer wasn't all too surprising, since it did explain why she felt as though she felt so strangely familiar with his presence. But that did not stop her from feeling surprised that such a thing had happened to her before.

"But... How? My father, he taught me the rituals and instructions to ward off vampires from my home, even to keep them from using their power." She heard him let out a small grunt of bemusement before continuing.

"He taught you well. But I'm afraid I'm much more powerful than most others of my kind." 

The color had all but disappeared from her cheeks; the more questions he answered, the more she learned just how dangerous of a web she had been caught in. She knew that a vampire's strength grew whenever they drained the blood of their victims; just how many people had he killed in order to become as strong as he was now? The only comfort she had was knowing that being trapped in that underground room was far worse than where she was now. Still, she supposed that she should be grateful that it wasn't a more nefarious vampire whose eye she caught, who might have also imprisoned her. 

"Then in that case... what was it that made you want to... drink from me in the first place?" He was quiet for a moment, and almost looked a bit uncomfortable.

"It was your scent."

"My... scent?"

"Yes. I found myself... attracted to your scent."

She almost found herself flattered by his statement. Since she was a child, she was rather sickly, which only slightly improved as she grew older. Since then, she often heard people talk about how hard it must have been for her poor father to balance both his work life and take care of his daughter, all without his wife by his side. This often meant that she was always kept under a watchful eye, for she quickly tired and could not keep up with her peers. So for years until his death, she was one of the only friends she had... After he died, she became even more withdrawn, and few people took interesting in the quiet, sickly girl. After all, who would want to be burdened with someone like her, someone who barely spoke and would need to be taken care of? It was nothing short of a miracle that she didn't wither away while she was trapped by those scientists. They must have done everything in their capabilities to ensure that she stayed alive, even if just barely so, for she could imagine that she was too useful to them to do so otherwise.

"I... I see... Thank you. I do appreciate your honesty..." She glad that he had given her transparency between them. Still, she could not deny that their relationship was... confusing. At first she thought he saw her as little more than an easy meal, but his reasons for keeping her around seemed to stem beyond that. Whatever the case may be, at least he was a little less of a mystery for now...

* * *

Vergil supposed it was only a matter of time until Alisha started asking questions. Even so, he was hesitant to tell her of his visits to her home at night, believing that she might choose to flee if she were to know. Not that he would have stopped her; he did give her the choice, after all. But if that were to happen, he would have felt rather... forlorn without her. Though she had not been living with him for long, he had quickly grown fond of her presence, as though she had filled a void he did not realize he had. In fact, there was one thing he neglected to tell her when she asked him why had drank from her: the reason why he was so drawn to her scent was because vampires were strongly drawn to the scent of those whose qualities they find most desirable in a mate. Gentle, feminine, kind-hearted... These were all traits that he had a particular fondness for. 

He had even seen these qualities during the day as he investigated the island; he often saw her throughout her daily routines in the town, from attending church services, to working her shifts at the library. She was timid and soft spoken, and would often retreat to a quiet corner of the church's garden to be among the flowers and fresh air while she read. Despite this, she had a particular soft spot for children, and would happily assist any child that needed assistance in the library.

And a part of him wondered if she find it in her heart to be as fond of him as he was of her.

He was not a sociable person by nature, but he tried to recall the actions of lovers he saw out and about, how they walked arm and arm with one another, and how they shared their words of affection. Something he often saw were men giving flowers to women they had a liking towards. So whenever he went hunting at night, he would return with a bouquet of wildflowers that he placed in a white vase by her bedside as she slept. When she thanked him the next morning, she gave him a smile, despite the fact that he could still detect some fear of him from her. Still, the smile she gave him made him feel a peculiar tremor within his chest.

To his surprise, it was not long until she had begun to approach him while he was in the library.

"I've noticed you have a fondness for poetry," she said to him. "My father liked poetry as well. He would often read it to me when I was ill." He wondered if the reason why she had taken more initiative to speak with him was her way of trying to conquer her fear of him. Nonetheless, he did enjoy that she appeared to enjoy his company more. 

She even seemed to become more comfortable when he drank from her; she was much more relaxed when he held her, and her heartbeat remained steady and calm even as his fangs sunk into her flesh. Soft and sweet were her moans, closing her eyes as her decadent blood pooled into his mouth. More and more, fear gave way to pleasure and desire; where there was once trepidation was now arousal, making the taste of her blood all the more richer. With each passing night, he grew even closer to her, as though her blood fueled a need he suddenly could not be without.

Though he was not one to voice his feelings, he hoped that through his actions she could see that she was more to him than a commodity of blood.


	6. Fall to the Abyss

Today, after a successful mission, Dante decided to do a bit of research into the Order of the Sword. By ferry, he traveled to Fortuna, a secluded island that typically didn't see many visitors, but received permission to enter because the Order had hired his services. While he figured they had already searched every nook and cranny of the place for the missing girl, he still figured it was worth checking out from an outsider's perspective. The town was fairly small, and in the middle of it was an enormous church. He could only guess that their religion was the center of their community.

When he went to the library, his suspicions were confirmed, but in a way he least expected: it turned out that at the center of their religion was his dear old dad. According to a history book, Sparda was the patron saint of this island, as well as of vampire hunters, and was often referred to as "the Savior". It was said that Sparda was the first person to teach humans how to exploit the weaknesses of vampires in order to protect themselves, despite the fact that he was a vampire himself. From there, Fortuna prospered, and their people traveled across the lands to spread this knowledge to others. Since then, it was said that the island was under Sparda's blessing, and the people would pray to him for guidance and protection.

Dante furrowed his brow before shutting the book and putting it back on the shelf. His father often told him and Vergil all sorts of stories about the many adventures he had throughout the centuries. But none of them had to do with practically becoming a god and having a bunch of people worshiping him. Why did he leave, Dante wondered. Did he think his job here was done, and just decided to retire to raise a family without the whole godhood stuff to weigh him down? A bunch of good that did him; he let his guard down and was forced commit a suicide attack in order to kill the horde of vampires that attacked his home and give his sons a slim chance of escape.

Well, he supposed it didn't matter now; all that was important at the moment was making sure the Order didn't try to do anything funny, and to find the missing girl.

Still... he couldn't help but wonder what Vergil would say if he knew this.

He spent the rest of his day in Fortuna asking various people if they've seen Alisha, and showing them her photograph. A good number of people said they recognized her, but had no clue as to where her current whereabouts could be. It was worth a try, at least. 

Tomorrow, he would complete a few missions before going on the search for her again. Hopefully, he would find her sooner rather than later.

* * *

As the weeks passed, Alisha found herself becoming less fearful of Vergil. He was a rather reserved man, but she didn't mind all too much, since she herself was on the quiet side. They shared of love of literature and poetry, the library their little meeting place when they were both home. Perhaps she was foolish for becoming close to a vampire, for no other reason than he was one of the few people who extended an invitation of friendship to her. But so far she had no reason to believe that he would harm her. 

Today, she had just finished shopping in the marketplace in the nearby town, carrying a large array of vegetables in her basket into the pantry. It was the first time venturing into the town, as she finally felt strong enough to make the journey. Vergil had turned down her invitation to join her, saying that he found spending time in the sun too "unpleasant". Still, she hoped that he would accompany her outside the manor one day.

"Did you have a safe trip?" he asked as she put away the groceries.

"I did," she replied. "It's a nice town, larger than Fortuna. But... there was one thing that worried me."

"What is it?"

"I heard some people talking about a vampire hunter looking for a missing girl. I know I can't be certain that they're talking me, but I'm scared that if this hunter finds me, they'll take me back to that place." Vergil then approached her and put his hand over hers, a gesture that surprised her. 

"I won't let that happen.You'll be safe with me. I promise." She saw the look in his eyes, signifying his earnestness and honest intent. She smiled at him in thanks before finishing putting away her inventory.

Strange that she had felt safer in the presence of a vampire than with the humans she had thought her meant to protect her.

Tonight he fed from her once again. Their sessions had grown to be more intimate as time passed, but they were much closer than ever before. In an armchair he held her in his lap so that her legs were straddling him, and her face pressed close to his chest as he cradled the back of her head with his hand. Strong and sturdy was his embrace, pleasure brewing within her as he drank her blood. Her slender fingers curled into the fabric of his vest as he sucked at her neck, and her legs tightened around his legs. Against her groin, she could feel his erection growing, and she found herself pressing her hips against him, an attempt to calm the insatiable need forming between her legs. Many times throughout her life she had been told how monstrous vampires were, how they cruelly drank blood from humans in order to sustain themselves, how they drained them dry to sate their selfish hunger for power...

And yet, in this moment, all she wanted was him.

At last, he had his fill, and he let out a satisfied groan after swallowing the last mouthful of her blood, the sound of it running down his throat sending a delightful shiver down her spine. She let out a gentle sigh as she felt his fingers carefully stroke her hair, eyes closing as she relaxed in his hold. 

"Alisha," he murmured.

"Yes?"

"Would you say that you are... fond of me?" 

"Fond of you? What do you mean?"

"Do you enjoy living here? With me?" She smiled as she let out a low hum.

"Yes. Very much."

"Then... would you like to stay by my side? Forever?" She suddenly lifted her head from his chest, thinking that she perhaps misheard him.

"Forever? Do you mean as a... someone like you?" He shook his head.

"I had another idea in mind; I could make you my thrall. But I promise that I will not take away your free will."

Alisha sat silent for a moment, pondering upon his sudden proposition. She had been taught that vampires would turn virgin humans into thralls through a blood exchange. Many horror stories have been told of vampires tempting foolish humans with the gift of immortality, only to turn them into a slave who was forced to follow their every command, with the only way to break the curse was to kill the vampire whom they were bound to. And now she had found herself on the receiving end on such a proposal...

He had told her that her free will would remain hers... but what if the moment she tasted his blood, she would be under his control forever? He had been honest with her about his previous visits to her home, but how could she be sure he wasn't keep any other, more malicious secrets? For all she knew, she could be walking right into his trap... 

Then why was it that no matter how much she told herself all of this, it did nothing to stop her desire for him? He had taken the initiative to rescue her when no one else would. He gave her companionship, something that had been sorely missing from her life for too long. And even though she had been taught to fear those like him, he made her feel safe and protected.

He made her feel loved.

"Yes," she told him. "I want to be with you... forever."

She watched as the corner of his lips turn upwards before he began untying his cravat. Then, he unfastened his vest, exposing his bare chest to her. Reaching his hand up to his neck, his fingernail extended into a sharp claw, which he used to leave a deep cut into his skin. Immediately, a drop of blood dripped from the open wound, which slowly trailed down his smooth skin.

Gently, he pushed his hand against the back of her head, encouraging her to drink. Hesitantly, she extended her tongue to lap up the drop of crimson, her heart pounding in her chest, filling her with anticipation. 

The moment his blood reached her tongue, her body was overcome with an intense feeling of warmth. Heat flooded through every nerve of her body, warming her to the very tips of her fingers. She did not know if she could say she liked the taste of his blood. But she wanted more.

Soon she put her mouth to his neck, gently sucking at the wound. Though his skin felt cold against her lips, warmth continued to overwhelm her, tingling beneath the surface of her flesh. As she continued to drink, she could hear him groan in pleasure, and she could feel his voice rumbling within his his chest. Her head began to feel dizzy, feeling as though she would melt in his embrace...

Finally, she pulled away, streaks of blood still lingering on her lips. When she looked back up at him, he locked her into his gaze, feeling as though she was being swallowed by the depths of his red eyes...

Before she could say a word, he quickly pulled her mouth to his in a deep kiss, wiping her lips clean with his own. His tongue snaked into her mouth, wanting to taste his blood from her tongue. Her moans were muffled by his kiss, the intensity making her body feel as though it was overwhelmed by a thousand flames.

Quickly, she felt herself being lifted from his lap and carried across the man, his lips no once leaving hers. Soon she heard a door open, and she felt her back being rested against a firm mattress. Finally, he released her mouth, allowing her to catch her breath. 

"Tonight, you will give me everything," he said as he ran his finger down her cheek. She nodded in response, knowing full well what was in store for her; she was quite nervous, knowing that she was about give both body and soul to him. But more than anything, she wanted to give all of her being only to him.

"Undress for me," he told her as he leaned back so he was sitting on his knees on the bed. She turned her gaze downward as she unbuttoned her dress, not wanting to look at how he stared at her as she stripped. After her dress was fully unbuttoned, she let it fall to the ground, leaving her upper half exposed to him. As she began untying her boots, she heard a lecherous growl come from him...

Finally, she was completely naked, the chilly air making her shiver a bit. When she glanced upwards, she saw his fangs exposed, as though he were preparing himself to devour her. She watched as his eyes scanned across her body, admiring every inch of what she had to offer.

Then she felt his cold hands push back onto the bed, before he let them wander along her skin. Up her legs, down her waist, everywhere in between sh felt his coldness against her burning flesh, the contrasting sensations making her moan in delight. Gently, he caressed her breast, pressing her nipple between her fingertips, the suppleness allowing it to easily mold in his hand.

She let out a broken gasp when she felt his fangs penetrate her breast, blood quickly pooling to the surface. For a brief moment, he let the blood drip from the puncture, leaving a trail that nearly reached her belly. Then he licked upwards with his tongue, before reaching the wound. Moan after moan escaped her lips as he drank from her breast, while his hand continued to stimulate the other one. Her arms wrapped around him, wanting to hold him close, to anchor herself to him as he drowned her in forbidden pleasure.

When he had enough, he licked her wound clean before sitting up on the bed and throwing her legs over his shoulders, leaving her entrance on full display to him while her upper half remained on the silk bed sheets. With one finger he teased at her folds, already wet from his earlier actions. Then he bit into her soft thigh, slowly drinking as his digit pushed inside, her wetness allowing him easy access. She cried out of ecstasy as her passage engulfed him, the sensation of his drinking only fueling her desire. And against her backside, she could feel his erection firmly pressing against her.

She could not hold back her scream when she felt his tongue enter her, and she might have wriggled out of his hold if he wasn't gripping her thighs so tightly. He sucked hard at her slit, drinking her nectar as though it were her blood. Tears stung her eyes as pressure began to tightly coil itself in her belly, the pleasure boiling past the surface...

She cried out his name as she climaxed, her fluids pouring into his mouth as he continued to use his mouth on her. Her vision turned white as ecstasy burst through every one of her veins, and her fists tightly curled into the sheets. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, the pleasure far more than she anticipated.

Just as her orgasm began to cool, he set her legs back down on the bed. When she looked over to her side, she saw him quickly undressing, the sight of his firm, sculpted body filling her with need. And his length... it was large, thick, and she could see a tiny drop of fluid emerging from the tip. Her legs trembled at the though of it going inside her, filling her past the brim...

He soon returned on top of her, opening her legs as his hands rested at her shoulders.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice sounding as though he couldn't wait another second.

"Yes... please..."

Slowly, he pushed inside of her, groaning as he entered to the hilt. She whimpered in pain as her body accepted him, the head going deep inside while her walls were stretched out by his girth. Tightly she held him, wanting the comfort of his body as she grew used to his size.

When the pain had passed, he began to thrust, pleasure slowly beginning to build. Each time he was completely sheathed inside felt nothing short of heavenly, the tip hitting a sensitive spot deep inside. From beneath him, she could see him gazing down at her body, watching as her breasts bounced each time his hips met her own.

Then something seemed to break inside him; his hands grabbed her hips and he began to furiously thrust into her, making her yelp. She could feel his claws digging into her skin as his cock entered her over and over again, making her fluids gush out of her like a stream and soaking the sheets. Her lustful moans quickly turned to desperate cries as her heat completely engulfed him, his frantic pace not once showing signs of slowing down. Her skin had become so warm that a light layer of sweat began to form at the surface, and her hair had become a mess as the strands spread across the pillow. Soon she could feel a familiar pressure growing in her midsection, another climax quickly approaching..."

 _"You are mine,_ " she heard him growl.

Not a second later did she feel his fangs sink into her neck once more, pushing her over the edge. She screamed out of ecstasy as her body became tense, her blood pooling in his mouth while the knot in her stomach was roughly pulled apart. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, and she could feel his seed enter passage, filling her with warmth. It was as though nothing else existed now except for this wonderfully overwhelming sensation, his mouth sucking at the wound at her neck, his release filling her until she overflowed, her body surrendering completely to the most sinful of carnal pleasures...

At last she felt him withdraw from her, making her heave a sigh of relief and satisfaction. But when she looked into his eyes, his ravenous desire did not fade.

_"We aren't done yet."_

Throughout the night, he continued to take her, using her to fulfill his insatiable lust; he positioned her so that she was on her hands and knees, allowing his hips to press against her soft rear. He placed her on her side with one leg over his shoulder, allowing him to see her tears of bliss glistening down her cheeks. He held her in his lap with her back against his sturdy chest, one arm holding her securely at her waist while the other played with her clitoris, all while continuing to thrust upwards into her. More times than she could count she climaxed in his embrace, and more times she could count was she filled with his cum, to the point it was almost constantly spilling out of her. Then at last, he was sated.

Her body lay limp on the mattress as she panted, struggling to catch her breath. Tiny bite marks were littered across her skin, and the last of his seed began to trail from her entrance. Her eyes were still blurry from the tears, and her hair was sticking to her forehead from the sweat. She was exhausted, his lovemaking pushing her to the extreme. But the satisfaction she felt was worth every moment.

Soon she saw him lay next to her, and she smiled as he pulled the covers over them, surrounding her in his protection. Gently, he stroked her hair, and he placed a soft kiss at the crown of her head as he pulled her close to him. Even after their long night, he still felt cold. But she didn't mind, because she would be there to keep both of them warm.

"Vergil... I love you..."


	7. Growing Suspicions

For the first time in many, many years, Vergil could call himself "happy". Despite the time they had shared, Alisha had no reason to believe that his intentions were pure; he could only imagine that as someone whose homeland prided themselves as a force against vampires, she would have been even more suspicious of his offer of immortality. But the moment her lips touched his blood, he was filled with more joy than he thought was possible for anyone to contain, as though his entire being was overflowing with bliss. That night, she had surrendered everything to him, baring her body, soul, and innocence for him alone. A part of him feared that what happened was all merely a dream, and that he would open his eyes to his lonely bed once more. But as soon as he stirred awake, he could feel her warmth within his embrace, safe and content.

It seemed no words could fully describe how he felt... but perhaps "wonderful" would suffice for now.

Still, with this happiness came a feeling of dread creeping within the shadows; the nightmares of his past still haunted him to this day, of his mother brutally killed by vampires, his father sacrificing his own life in order to give his sons a chance for escape, his many years of wandering alone, drinking the blood of any living creature that crossed his path like an starved animal... he could still remember the day he killed his first victim, a man who intended to kidnap and sell him for a hefty price... That was the day Vergil had a taste of just how much strength a vampire had, how even a mere child vampire's power could easily crush a human like a pathetic insect.

And from that moment on, he was addicted.

For now, though, he finally had some peace. But he knew that he couldn't let his guard down, and needed to be more alert than ever before. In recent years, he had noticed that vampires did not hold the same animosity towards thralls being treated as equals as they once did, perhaps because they discovered that it was more common than they were willing to admit; more than a few times he saw a happy couple walking arm in arm, who appeared to be two ordinary humans. But his vampiric senses could easily detect that one of them was a thrall who was freely the mate of the vampire they bonded with. Still, he knew that not every vampire would share that sentiment, which was why he needed to make sure Alisha was safe. Their first night together was rather... long, and while he knew she had a love for children, he was worried that her becoming with child would make her a bigger target for his enemies, especially since vampires weren't the only threat to her survival...

One night, while he was returning home from a hunt, he could sense the presence of someone nearby, far too close for his liking. Quickly, he unsheathed his blade, searching for the intruder. From the scent, he quickly deduced that this stranger was a vampire.

"Bring us back the girl," a voice said, "and you can make this a lot easier for himself." Vergil quickly turned around, prepared to confront the stranger face to face. Slowly, he watched as someone stepped out of the shadows, making their presence known. But to his shock, the man who had the scent of a vampire was wearing the white uniform of the Order of the Sword. He even had the unmistakable appearance of one, a pale complexion with eyes red as blood. And yet, he proudly wore the emblem of the organization that prided themselves on hunting creatures such as him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vergil said as he gripped the hilt of his blade. "What is it you really want?" The vampire simply smiled at him in response.

"You've stolen something very precious to us. Priceless, even. But the Order preaches forgiveness, even for vampires. Therefore, if you give me the girl right now, I'll leave you in peace; you'll never have to worry about us ever again."

Vergil didn't even have to think twice with his response; without saying a word, he charged towards intruding demon, who blocked his attack with his blade. As they fought, Vergil could see a pair of fangs protruding from his opponent's mouth as he gave a prideful grin. Still, he could tell that whoever this was, he was a fairly young vampire who was turned recently, which meant that his strength paled in comparison to someone who had two centuries worth of experience. So it was little surprise when he was able to impale his victim with Yamato, the shock and pain on his face making Vergil smirk in arrogant delight. Blood dripped from the massive wound, and his opponent began choking on his own blood as Vergil leaned forward. Then, without a warning, he sunk his fangs into the cold flesh, letting it pool into his mouth. As he gorged himself on his victim's blood, he could sense the life steadily fading from the body, and the fear at the realization that there was nothing he could do to save himself now. Then, after a few moment, the body fell limp, and he allowed it to slide off his blade, collapsing in a pool of blood.

After wiping his lips of blood, he stared at his victim's body, admiring his kill. He admitted he was quite confused as to why the Order would have a vampire among their ranks. But it was no matter to him; whoever was foolish enough to harm his mate would swiftly meet their end. That much he could promise.

* * *

Weeks soon turned to months, and Dante still had no solid leads on the missing girl. He had decided half his mission time into looking for her, asking around, hunting for clues... but time and time again he would turn up empty-handed. He was starting to worry that this was all a lost cause...

Tonight, he had traveled further from home than usual, nearly desperate for any signs pointing him in the right direction. He asked everyone he met about the missing girl, praying that he would finally be given a clue. Then, to his great surprise, it turned out that a few people did indeed see her. Well, sort of; some shopkeepers said she looked pretty familiar, and that she bought a few things from them, but they couldn't tell him exactly who she was or where she lived. That was okay, though, because it was still one step closer than he was months ago. That probably meant she lived somewhere nearby. And perhaps his brother did too...

Later, he wandered through the nearby forest, hoping that he might find further clues. For all he knew, she might have tried to escape, and left some evidence behind. That was when he was hit by a sharp stench, the unmistakable scent of death. A vampire's corpse to be precise. Panic rushed through Dante as he followed the scent, thinking that it might have been his brother, but thankfully he quickly determined that was not the case. Then at last he encountered the source, a body that had been rotting for about a day or two. When he approached the body, he was immediately taken aback by what he saw: this was the scent of a vampire, that much he was sure of. He could even see a pair of fangs. And yet, he wore the uniform of a member of the Order of the Sword. 

Just what the hell was going on...?


End file.
